


Subject 46

by Telara



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blindfolds, Depressed Castiel, Experimentation, Forced Orgasm, Hurt Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, Insecure Castiel, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Panic Attacks, Prostate Massage, Prostate Milking, Season/Series 11, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-04-30 08:07:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14492559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telara/pseuds/Telara
Summary: After the footage of someone healing a dying man is discovered by the government, they become very interested in finding out more about the man they identify as the missing James Novak, and they're willing to do anything to find out how his powers work.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ohcassie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ohcassie/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, more Cas!whump. This is based on a prompt, so hopefully I'll be able to stay on track this time. At least a little.  
> Also, this is post episode 11x06, during which Metatron films Cas while he's healing a guy - just a reminder in case you don't remember that. Like I didn't remember that.

Having spent a few weeks trying to find out anything at all about the Darkness, for a second Castiel thought that the man and woman blocking his way out of the alley might know something useful. However, almost immediately he realized that they were human.

The more shocking part was how they addressed him. “James Novak?”

Castiel frowned, trying to ignore the guilt knotting his stomach. He hadn’t been called that in a very long time, and he didn’t like it?

“What do you want?”

They didn’t tell him. “Would you come with us, please?”

There was a barely hidden threat in those words, and Castiel glared at them. His grace might not be at full capacity (or even half capacity), but humans still wouldn’t stand a chance against him.

“No,” he replied simply, and turned around, freezing when he saw another two people in suits. They all looked like government agents, but what would they want with him? James Novak had been classified as missing years ago. Why would the government be looking for him, much less threatening him?

All four of them raised their guns and aimed them at him, and Castiel set his jaw, trying to think of a way to fight them off without seriously hurting them. They were just doing their job after all.

Sensing that the agents were about to shoot, Castiel quickly threw one of them into the wall with a flick of his wrist, knowing that it would surprise them enough to give him enough time to run up to the second agent in front of the angel, even if it consumed a lot of his energy. Castiel ripped the gun from the agent’s hands and head-butted him, creating an opening through which he could escape.

What Castiel didn’t count on was that the guns the agents had were actually stun guns, and so before he could dash out of the alley and disappear, he was stopped in his tracks. Castiel cried out as electricity surged through him, making him fall to the ground, his muscles spasming as the electric current continued wreaking havoc in his body.

He tried to fight the hands that pulled his arms together in front of him and bound the wrists with heavy handcuffs, but Castiel had almost no control over his limbs at the moment, so all he could managed was a weak moan as he was dragged to his feet and held there as one of the agents pulled a hood over Castiel’s head and tightened it around his neck.

He’s barely gotten some control over his legs back, and they were already leading him somewhere, the agents’ hands having a painfully tight grip on his arms. Castiel tried to kick out at them, but they quickly solved that by one of them picking the angel up and throwing him over his shoulder in a slightly modified version of the fireman’s carry.

“N-no, st-stop,” was about all Castiel could manage to say with a numb tongue, not that it helped him at all. A few seconds of being carried later, Castiel was pretty much thrown into what he guessed was the back of a van, but with the hood leaving him in complete darkness, it was hard to tell.

The angel then realized that he could actually pull the hood off, but before his fingers could reach it, someone’s knee pushed him down to the ground, trapping his hands under him, and then there was sharp pain in his neck, which made him flinch. Definitely a needle.

It took only a few seconds before Castiel’s body became too heavy. His mind wasn’t affected by whatever he’d been injected with, but he couldn’t move, or even speak, and it was then that he realized how much trouble he was most likely in.

Whoever these people were, they’d managed to capture him without using a single sigil, or holy fire, or anything Castiel was used to being used against him. Was he really so useless that he’d been easily incapacitated by mere humans? He didn’t want to believe that, but here he was, sedated and chained, about to be taken to who knows where.

Castiel flinched as much as he could as he felt something thin and hard press on his back, which he realized were scissors as they started cutting through his coat. The thought of his coat being ruined was really much more upsetting than it should have been.

Soon enough it was gone, his suit jacket following right after, and then finally his shirt and tie, leaving Castiel half-naked, and suddenly very concerned about the reason why it was necessary to remove his clothes.

He couldn’t stop a fearful whimper from escaping his mouth as his pants were pulled down, and his shoes and socks removed. However, whoever had undressed him wasn’t touching his boxers, so Castiel relaxed a little. Well, mentally, anyway – he couldn’t relax more physically if he tried.

He felt so helpless right now. He’d felt that way since he’d been taken, but now it was even worse. Without his clothes he felt incredibly vulnerable, which Castiel supposed was very human, and thus pathetic thing for an angel to feel, but he couldn’t help it.

It was most likely the idea why his clothes had been taken away from him, and why he’d been robbed of his sight. Castiel tried to reach for the hood again, but he only managed to move his hands a few millimeters before he gave up again.

It was all an intimidation technique, Castiel was sure. But just because he understood why he was being subjected to this treatment, it didn’t make dealing with it any easier. Especially since every so often, a memory of either him hurting someone, or him being hurt by someone resurfaced for a few seconds before Castiel managed to drag his thought process somewhere else.

Even as an angel, he doubted he wouldn’t start hallucinating sooner or later if that hood stayed.

Since he doubted Sam and Dean would get involved in this – and the angel wouldn’t blame them if they didn’t try to rescue him because it would be too risky with the brothers’ history with the law – Castiel would have to wait for an opportunity to escape on his own.

He just hoped there would be one because if they kept sedating him, there was no way he would be able to even stand on his own, let alone run.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The interrogation begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning - I decided to change the rating. Nothing really that explicit happens in this chapter, but there will be some bad touching later, and who knows what else, so sorry about that.  
> Also, I changed the title, but that doesn't really affect the story :D

They’d given Castiel the sedative two more times before the van reached its destination, and they’d replaced the bag with a tightly bound blindfold. It seemed the agents were dead set on the angel not seeing anything, but Castiel had no idea why the bag had been removed. But at least now he could hear better, not that that helped him a great deal, but he felt a little less disoriented.

However, he still couldn’t move much, so all he could do was mumble a few weak words of protest as he was less than gently picked up and thrown over someone’s shoulder again. Castiel’s eyes might have been blinded, but his internal clock was still working perfectly, so he did know that it had been seventeen hours since he’d been kidnapped, which meant he had to be far away from Kansas.

That fact made him the situation feel even more hopeless.

Judging by the change of air, and the sudden lack of wind, Castiel put together that he’d been brought inside a building, and all that was to hear were echoing footsteps. Noticing that some control had returned to his muscles, Castiel tried squirming a little, but he was immediately forced to stop as the grip on his wrists and leg tightened, painful enough now to make Castiel wince.

Suddenly the man carrying him came to a stop.

“Has he given you any trouble?” asked a woman with a completely dispassionate voice.

“Nothing we couldn’t handle,” replied a man on Castiel’s left.

“Good. Take him to thirteen, I’ll tell Anderson to get started on him immediately.”

Castiel heart started beating even faster. There was no way this meant anything other than torture, and Castiel wasn’t sure he was up to resisting that right now. He was doing everything in his power not to freak out right now, but he doubted he’d be able to hold it together once someone started cutting into him.

He needed to escape as soon as possible.

Wherever room 13 was, it must have been rather close to where Castiel had been carried because it was only about a minute more before he was being laid out on a table and strapped down to it with thick metal bands. There were six of them in total – around his neck, torso, thighs, ankles, and one for each wrist.

“No, no,” he muttered to himself as he became immobilized by more physical means than the sedative. He didn’t have the strength to break metal this thick right now, or maybe ever.

Castiel stayed relatively still until he was sure the agents had left before using all the strength he could muster to try and break the metal binding him.

But it was useless. Castiel couldn’t look, so he could only guess how thick the metal bands were, which he was sure was very. He slumped on the table, breathing heavily – partly because he was exhausted from the attempt at freeing himself, partly from keeping himself from becoming terrified and losing all rationality.

At least he wasn’t bound to a chair, which would make his predicament a lot more familiar.

A few minutes later Castiel heard someone enter the room, the heavy door closing behind them. This must have been the beforementioned Anderson. Castiel swallowed, preparing himself for the inevitable torture that was to come. He still had no idea what they wanted from him – they couldn’t know he was an angel, could they?

“Now, we can do this the relatively easy way, or the hard way,” said Anderson in a deep enough voice to rival Dean. Castiel didn’t say anything, but that didn’t seem to faze the man at all. “You can either answer all of my questions, and we can skip the painful part, or not.”

“What exactly would you like to know?” Castiel snarled, keeping his tone the slightest bit sarcastic. He’d been tortured by Heaven. What could a human do to him to make the angel talk?

“We’d like to find out how you managed to heal a dying man in an instant.”

Castiel’s eyes widened behind the blindfold. “I don’t know-”

“We have footage of you doing so,” said Anderson, sounding a little annoyed by Castiel’s attempt at lying. The angel wanted to ask where they would get something like that when he remembered.

Metatron. Of course. Castiel had thought he’d destroyed his camera, but he hadn’t made sure, and now he was going to pay for it. So these people didn’t know he was an angel, which meant that Castiel couldn’t tell them anything. Not that he’d been willing to do that before, but now especially.

“I see you don’t want to talk,” Anderson said, clearly happy about that. “That’s okay, you freaks never do. But I’ll change your mind.”

Freaks? Did that mean they had more supernatural beings here?

However, Castiel soon forgot about that when he felt a knife bury itself into his abdomen, making the angel scream in pain, and uselessly tug at his bonds. He gasped as the knife was pulled out, letting blood pour out of the wound.

“I’d suggest you heal yourself before you bleed out,” the man said, pushing a finger into the wound, forcing another scream from the angel.

“N-no.”

“No? My, you are a stubborn bastard,” Anderson commented, running the tip of the knife over Castiel’s quivering stomach, but not actually cutting him. At least not yet. “Unfortunately, I don’t have the time for that.”

Castiel’s mouth opened in a silent scream as the knife was stabbed directly into his heart, and as soon as Anderson pulled out the knife Castiel knew he’d lost. His grace stopped obeying him, healing both of the wounds against his will, leaving Castiel completely drained and ready to pass out.

“Now, was that so hard?” Castiel didn’t answer, too preoccupied with his head spinning and his entire body shaking. “Mind telling me what that blue light was?”

Castiel stayed silent, only shaking his head as much as he could with a metal strap around his neck.

“It’s like pulling teeth with you. Hm, actually that’s not such a bad idea. Can you grow those back?”

Yes, he could, but that didn’t mean he wanted to have a reason to do it. His grace was running low, so pain was much sharper than it usually would be. Being stabbed with the knife was similar to being stabbed with an angel blade in terms of painfulness. Not quite, but close.

Having his teeth pulled out would probably be worse than the knife, especially the molars. Castiel shuddered in fear, which made Anderson laugh.

“Just answer the question, and I’ll leave your teeth alone.”

The man could have been lying, but Castiel answered anyway.

“Y-yes, I can grow back teeth,” he choked out. He’d already showed his healing abilities, so this felt like a small price to pay if he could avoid the teeth pulling. Anderson let out a pleased hum, taking a hold of Castiel’s chin roughly.

“How about limbs?”

“A-anything,” Castiel said shakily, whining as he tried to close his mouth, but Anderson held it wide open.

“Anything? And where exactly did this power come from?”

Castiel struggled to close his mouth, but Anderson just tightened his grip on his jaw. “Just when I thought we were making some progress, you go and ruin it, forty-six.”

Forty-six? Was that his assigned name now? His captors really didn’t hold back on trying to make the angel feel like he was less of a person than them. Well, technically he wasn’t a person at all, but that was beside the point.

Castiel breathed out as Anderson let go of him, finally letting him close his mouth, but his relief was short lived because a few seconds later, something cold and metal made contact with his side, and he screamed as electricity coursed through him.

It felt like an eternity before the pain stopped, and once it did, Castiel slumped, panting, only then noticing the blood in his mouth. He must have bitten his tongue. Anderson seemed to have noticed that as well.

“Maybe if you’re good, I’ll give you something to bite down on next time.” Castiel was too tired to tell him to go to hell. “I was told you have also have some telekinetic powers. Why don’t you just free yourself with those?”

Castiel ignored him, so he received another shock for it. This one lasted a shorter amount of time, but it still hurt enough to make the blindfold a little damper. At least only the angel knew about the tears for now. There was just that much humiliation he could take, and he was already pretty much naked.

“I admit this is pretty boring, but I’ll keep at it if you don’t give me anything,” Anderson threatened. Castiel only whimpered quietly, steeling himself for more pain. Anderson didn’t disappoint.

The next thirty minutes were filled with horrible pain, screaming, and sobbing, until Castiel finally lost consciousness, from which he was brought back immediately by a harsh slap and a bucket of ice cold water poured onto his face, and the whole process repeated itself.

This went on for long enough that Castiel completely lost track of time, lost in the cycle of torture, passing out, and being woken up, until finally he couldn’t take it anymore and started begging for it to stop.

Shockingly, Anderson did. “Tell me something, and I’ll stop.”

Castiel sobbed. He hated that he was so weak, but he couldn’t take it anymore. “I-I c-can’t use t-telekinesis ‘cause I don’t have enough en…energy.”

The angel’s speech was mumbled and his voice weak, but that was to be expected after screaming himself hoarse and not having his tongue healed completely yet.

“Because of the healing?” Anderson asked, and Castiel nodded. “Okay, good.”

And with that his torturer left, and Castiel was finally allowed to rest.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It'll only get worse from here.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas tries to escape. It doesn't work out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where the explicit rating comes into play.

When Castiel woke up, he felt relatively rejuvenated, but he didn’t dare move. He only listened for a while until he was sure he was alone in the room before summoning all of his strength and pulling on the bands around his wrists first.

To his surprise, they broke, although it had been harder to do than he’d thought it would be. Castiel took a few seconds to rest before moving on to the other bindings, but with his hands freed, it was much easier.

Once he’d ripped open the band around his neck, and chest, Castiel sat up and got rid of the one around his thighs and ankles, finally taking off the blindfold. The angel blinked for a bit as his eyes adjusted to the light.

Castiel swallowed as he scanned the room. It was rather small, but filled to the brim with torture instruments – knifes, whips, scissors, a few hammers and saws, pliers, and many more, some of which Castiel wasn’t even sure he understood the function of.

The angel stopped himself from imagining Anderson using all of that on him, and quickly found the door. It was large and metal, but after ramming his shoulder into it a few times, it gave way and opened.

Deciding that he’d already caused so much noise that stealth was pointless, Castiel ran out, not looking back, heading for what he hoped was the exit. It wasn’t easy to tell, though, because the facility was just a lot of sterile white corridors and doors.

He was almost there, already reaching for the door handle, when suddenly electricity coursed through him, and he fell down to the floor with a cry. Despite that he still tried to crawl forward, but he only got shocked once more for it before rough hands grabbed him, pulled a band of some elastic fabric over his eyes, and started dragging Castiel back.

No, he’d been so close! And now he would most likely get punished for trying to escape, and his captors would tie him down with something even harder to break. Castiel uselessly struggled as he was pushed down onto a table once more and strapped to it, however what surprised him was that it felt like the straps were made of nylon, or something similar.

“You didn’t actually think that would work, did you?” asked Anderson mockingly as the people who had carried Castiel here left the room, leaving the angel alone with his torturer and one more person Castiel didn’t know. “I left you alone on purpose. I wanted to know the limit of your strength. And you won’t be breaking _these_ straps – they’re specially made for freaks like you, a hundred times stronger than steel. Oh, now I get to punish you for being bad. This day just keeps getting better and better.”

Castiel flinched as he felt Anderson’s hand on his stomach, stroking it. “Go to hell.”

“After I die, I’m sure I will.” The other person cleared her throat. “Hm? Oh, yes, the samples.”

Samples?

“If you wouldn’t mind taking the blood and tissue while I, heh, take the other samples.”

“You’re enjoying this a little too much,” the woman said, and Castiel winced as a needle pierced his right arm. There were bits of grace in every tissue and bodily fluid of a possessed vessel, but Castiel hoped that these people wouldn’t notice it.

Then he cried out a sudden scalpel made contact with his skin and started carving out a small piece of it.

“Don’t worry about the wound, he’ll heal it,” Anderson told the woman uncaringly and started to cut away Castiel’s boxers. What other samples was he planning on taking exactly? Castiel tried to struggle, but he couldn’t move a single inch away from Anderson’s scissors as tied down as he was.

“No, stop!” Castiel growled, and Anderson chuckled.

“As amusing as this is, would you be so kind as to shut the subject up, Lauren?” Anderson said and continued with stripping Castiel of his last remaining article of clothing. Castiel closed his mouth firmly to make gagging him as difficult as possible, but when Anderson squeezed his dick, Castiel couldn’t stop himself from yelling in surprise and pain, which the woman used to push the rubber ball between his teeth. Castiel tried shaking his head to dislodge the gag as the straps were tightened behind his head, but it didn’t even move.

“Aw, you used the ball gag,” Anderson said, sounding touched, and the woman scoffed.

“Only because you’d make me use it anyway if I tried to gag him with a normal one.”

“You know me so well.” Anderson finally removed the tattered remains of Castiel’s boxers, leaving him completely nude. The angel felt his cheeks burn with humiliation, and he whined softly as Anderson poked his dick and balls.

“Don’t you have some samples to collect?” the woman asked, clearly annoyed.

“Oh, right.” Castiel hear Anderson pick something up, and then let out muffled cry as something thin entered his hole. It didn’t hurt exactly, but it was incredibly uncomfortable, and he didn’t want the object rubbing against his insides.

Castiel breathed out as whatever had been inserted into him was pulled out. “Now for the other.” The angel flinched as Anderson took his cock into his hand and pulled something plastic over about half of its length. Castiel whined as he realized what sample they wanted to take from him now, and started shaking his head. He did not want to give them that!

“Oh look, he figured it out,” Anderson said with slight amusement.

“Wait, shouldn’t you prepare him first?” the woman asked, and Anderson chuckled.

“Yesterday, he healed a stab wound to the heart, I think he can deal with this.”

Castiel screamed as something much wider than before pushed up his ass. It was slick, but much too wide not to burn terribly, and the angel sobbed and thrashed as the object went farther and farther into him, until it was finally fully inserted, pushing against his prostate.

Castiel let out a cry as unwanted pleasure made his dick stir, and he shook his head in denial. And then it got much worse – the thing inside of him started vibrating. Soon enough he was fully hard and leaking precum. The new blindfold did nothing to hide his tears, and the gag made him drool on his chin uncontrollably. He knew that fighting his bonds was hopeless, but he couldn’t stop himself from fighting against them, rubbing his wrists raw as he desperately tried to get away.

Castiel screamed as he came, slumping in exhaustion, thinking that at least it was over, but the only thing that happened was that the vibrations increased their intensity, and his dick started to harden once more.

“What are you doing?” the woman asked as Anderson increased the setting even more, making Castiel whimper miserably.

“I want to see how much we can get out of him. You know, for science.”

There was a moment of silence filled only with Castiel’s muffled grunts and moans. “Just bring the bag to the lab once you’re done.”

“Can do,” said Anderson as the woman left. “Now let’s see what you’ve got.” He gripped Castiel’s erection, making the angel thrust into the hold automatically. Castiel shuddered, completely disgusted with himself, but it seemed his body was completely out of his control.

Anderson didn’t stop until Castiel was exhausted and cuming dry, and even then he only turned off the prostate massager and left it inside the angel. Castiel didn’t care at the moment, though. He could barely keep his eyes open, metaphorically speaking. Anderson seemed to have realized this as well because he started undoing the strap around Castiel’s ankles, and then his thighs.

Castiel made a confused noise, and Anderson shushed him, spreading Castiel’s legs far apart and pulling out the prostate massager only to replace it with his cock. Castiel shuddered as Anderson entered his pliant body, and he tried to weakly push the man away with his legs, but Anderson just laughed at him and pushed the legs back, fucking into the angel with surprising gentleness, which honestly just made the whole thing worse.

Castiel wanted to vomit when he felt Anderson cum inside of him, but he swallowed it down, a single tear running down his cheek as the man pulled out, and pushed the massager back inside.

“Don’t make a mess – you’ll regret it, trust me. And don’t think I forgot about your punishment.”

With that Anderson tied Castiel’s legs back to the table, took the plastic bag off Castiel’s dick, and left.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas has a panic attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure why, but I can't seem to write longer chapters for this fic.

Castiel couldn’t sleep. He knew he needed all the energy he could muster to heal whatever torment Anderson had planned for him, but every time the angel tried to sleep, he flashed back to the man touching him, violating him.

Castiel was sure that was the reason they’d left him alone for almost five hours now – being left alone with his thoughts, and only his thoughts, was a torment on its own with what Anderson had done to him. To make matters worse, every time Castiel managed to think about something else, the cum and prostate massager inside of him made sure to remind him.

He wasn’t sure if he could push it out, but Castiel was too afraid to even try. He didn’t want to find out what Anderson considered punishment, although he most likely would for attempting to escape. Still, he didn’t want to make it worse.

Since he couldn’t sleep and needed a distraction, Castiel had been trying to break his bonds for a few hours now. It was completely useless, though. It seemed it was more likely Castiel would break the metal table he was tied to than the straps themselves, whatever they were made out of.

Castiel tensed as he heard the door open, but no one said anything. He only heard footsteps before something that felt like headphones was pushed over his ears. And suddenly, Castiel found himself completely isolated – he couldn’t see, hear, or talk, and that was honestly much more terrifying than he would have thought.

Castiel flinched as a finger brushed over his chest, disappearing a second later, but it was enough to make Castiel’s heart race. He knew the point of this was to scare him, but unfortunately that didn’t make the experience any less terrifying.

Castiel jumped again when the finger started stroking his abdomen, but he quickly caught on to what Anderson (if it was him) was doing – tracing words. Castiel concentrated on the letters, too afraid to ignore it. However, once he deciphered what Anderson ‘wrote’, he firmly shook his head.

He couldn’t tell him anything about his source of power, and he certainly wasn’t broken enough yet.

The finger disappeared from Castiel’s abdomen, and Castiel tensed again, trying to control his fear as he waited for the inevitable pain. It didn’t come, at least not in the way he’d been expecting.

Instead, fingers pinched both of his nipples, and pulled, drawing a cry out of Castiel as he bit down on the gag, and then disappearing again.

The blade of a small knife touched his abdomen next, but to Castiel’s surprise, it didn’t cut him. Just glided over his skin, and then was removed, touching his arm next, first left and then right, making its way to Castiel’s neck and face.

Castiel forced himself to stay still as the blade made a vertical cut on his cheek, then doing the same on the other one. A finger tapped on the ball gag, and the knife retreated.

For a minute or two, nothing happened, giving Castiel the space to fully appreciate the burning pain from the cuts, and the feeling of blood running down his face, before finally the knife was cutting into his stomach.

And they weren’t random cuts – they formed words. _TELL ME_

Castiel shook his head again, letting out a pained sob as Anderson added an exclamation mark. Still he shook his head.

In response, Anderson lifted up the blindfold, but before Castiel’s eyes could adjust, the knife pierced the right one. Castiel howled, bucking up and trying to twist away, but Anderson easily held his head still by gripping his hair, and stabbed the knife into the other eye.

Castiel knew his eyes would heal, but that didn’t make the pain any less terrible. Castiel sobbed, biting into the rubber ball in his mouth while Anderson patted his hair mockingly and pulled the blindfold back in place. Not like it mattered now – Castiel had been blinded.

Crying burned horribly, but Castiel couldn’t control it. He could feel the tears mixing with the blood running from his ruined eyes, flowing into the hair above his ears and dripping onto the table.

Castiel cried out once more as Anderson started cutting more words into him, this time his arm. _HOW ABOUT NOW?_

Castiel couldn’t even shake his head at this point, but it seemed his lack of response was clear enough an answer for the man because he started carving the words ‘tell me’ anywhere he could. Soon enough, Castiel was bleeding from his arms, legs, chest, abdomen, and neck, and he could barely keep up with closing the wounds, much less healing them.

He groaned and whimpered as he tried fix the damage as best as he could, but he was healing incredibly slowly, so much so that he’d barely gotten started on his eyes. At least they weren’t bleeding anymore.

When Anderson took the headphones off and gripped the end of the prostate massager, Castiel froze and let out a fearful noise, groaning a sobbing quietly as it was pulled out of him, the cum following, leaving Castiel feeling open, mortified, and absolutely disgusting.

At least he could hear again, but there really wasn’t much to hear right now. Just his own pathetic cries.

“So nice and open for me,” said Anderson as he pushed three fingers into Castiel’s hole at once. Castiel only whined, in too much pain from his injuries to really feel the burn. He started shaking from more than just the pain when he realized he was about to be raped once again. Without that gag, Castiel wasn’t sure he’d be above begging right now, as flashes of the previous encounter forced themselves into the forefront of his mind.

Anderson seemed to think the same thing because a few seconds later he pulled out the fingers and unbuckled the gag, pulling it out of Castiel’s mouth before pushing the fingers back into Castiel, plus another one. Castiel whimpered as he was stretched.

“P-please, don’t,” he whined, his voice shaking with fear, and Anderson chuckled, pushing the fingers in deeper.

“Maybe if you answered that question I’ve been asking…” Anderson said, and Castiel bit his lip to stop himself from saying anything. Anderson clicked his tongue and started undoing the bindings on Castiel’s legs. “Then you don’t really give me a choice, forty-six.”

Castiel tried to retreat into his head, but Anderson seemed to have seen that coming because he kept pushing his fingers into the wounds on Castiel’s legs as he spread them, and Castiel started hyperventilating.

Suddenly the door flew open and there was yelling, but Castiel barely noticed. He was too busy having a panic attack. He hated that he knew firsthand what those were, but at least he knew how to deal with them.

He tried as best as he could to take in deep breaths and slow down his breathing to an acceptable pace. He didn’t notice that Anderson had been forced to leave the room, or that his bindings had been undone and the blindfold taken off, or that someone had wrapped a blanked around him.

He was too focused on his battle to stay conscious. A battle he lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should rename this to 'Cas blacks out a lot'.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An OC who's not a total asshole appears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, meant to type this out yesterday, but then my bunny died, and I kind of lost all will to write.

“What _the hell_ do you think you’re doing, Anderson?” Caleb growled at the man as soon as he dragged him out of the room, barely managing to keep his anger in check.

“My job, _Marlow_ ,” Anderson replied, smirking in the way that always made Caleb want to strangle him. “And I’d appreciate if you didn’t interrupt me while I do it. I think I mentioned that before.”

“And I think _I’ve_ mentioned that I’m your superior,” Caleb snapped.

“For how much longer?” Anderson said, which surprised Caleb enough to stop him from telling the other man to shut up. “How many times have you already stopped me from _interrogating_ a subject? Five? Six? It’s almost like you’re trying to hinder our progress. I’m sure _your_ superiors wouldn’t be happy to hear that.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Yes.”

“Well, then, go on, tell them. And don’t forget to mention how you’ve been breaking protocol by indulging in your sick fantasies. Last I checked, rape wasn’t an allowed torture method.”

Anderson narrowed his eyes at Caleb. “Hm. Seems we’re at a stalemate.”

“Which we’ll resolve by you never touching James Novak again.”

“You can’t be serious,” Anderson scoffed. “I’m one session away from breaking him.”

“I don’t give a _fuck_ , is that understood?”

Anderson gave Caleb a fake smile. “Crystal, _sir_.” With that he left, probably imagining torturing Caleb instead of James. Caleb sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Dealing with Anderson had never been easy, but this…

Most of the subjects they’d had here were either criminals, or straight up murderers. James had done nothing wrong, at least nothing they’d managed to find – hell, they’d found him only because he’d used his powers to save someone’s life.

No one deserved what Anderson had done, but James especially didn’t deserve it.

Caleb walked back to the interrogation room and scanned James’ unconscious body. Even with a blanked covering him, Caleb could still clearly make out the words cut into his skin, and seeing that was enough to make him want to go kill Anderson.

“Bring him to a holding cell, please. One of the nicer ones,” Caleb told the guards, who nodded, bound James’ wrists together, and started carrying him away. Caleb wanted to protest against the bindings, but given that James was strong enough to break metal, it was probably necessary.

Caleb ran a hand through his hair. He’d only been gone for two days, and the situation was already most likely beyond salvageable. Fucking Anderson…

When Castiel came to, he was surprised to find that he wasn’t tied down to anything. In fact, he was lying down on a relatively comfortable bed. Only his hands were tied together with the same material that had held him down when…

Castiel let out a small involuntary whimper as he recalled what Anderson had done – what he’d wanted to do. What had happened? He had a vague memory of hearing someone come into the room, but that was about it. Had the brothers saved him?

No, that couldn’t be it. Castiel was sure if Sam and Dean had rescued him, they wouldn’t tie his hands together. Or they would just use Enochian handcuffs.

Castiel groaned as he sat up, feeling sore everywhere, especially in the place he didn’t want to think about out, and rubbed the dried blood away from his eyes, finally opening them.

He could see, but all he saw were greyish blurs. Clearly his eyes hadn’t healed all the way yet, which wasn’t surprising with how much damage his body had sustained. The angel ran a hand over the words cut into his arms, sighing in relief when he found out they were mostly gone.

He let out a quiet sob as the memory of gaining these cuts came back to him, and he buried his face in his hands. Why was he acting like this? It wasn’t any worse than what Heaven had done to him during reeducation.

He sniffled at the thought, feeling even more pathetic. Maybe he shouldn’t even try to get out of here, anymore. What would he do if he managed to run away? He couldn’t go back to Sam and Dean as worthless as this. What good would he be to them? Besides, Castiel knew he wouldn’t be able to handle the brothers telling him to leave, which they definitely would, most likely as soon as they found out he’d been held captive by mere humans. That he’d let one of them…

Castiel let out another sob, a tear falling from both of his eyes. He hated feeling this helpless and weak. It was close to how he’d felt when he’d been human, except somehow worse.

He jumped in surprise when he heard the door opening and backed as far away as he could, shielding his face with his forearms. The sound of someone coming in was enough to make Castiel shake in fear as flashbacks assaulted his mind once more.

The angel flinched and almost hit the person next to him when a hand touched his shoulder, but then he realized that the intention behind the action didn’t seem to be to hurt him. A second hand touched his back, which made Castiel whine fearfully, but it just started stroking his back comfortingly.

Castiel listened as a calm male voice told him to take in deep breaths and his best to do so, already feeling like he would black out soon. The man kept repeating to him to breathe in and out, until Castiel finally relaxed, sagging against the wall in exhaustion. Only then the man removed his hands.

“I’m so sorry, James,” said the man, surprisingly sounding genuinely sympathetic and regretful, but maybe Castiel was too tired to judge such things.

“Who…who are you?” Castiel forced out, his voice weak and shaky, mirroring exactly how he felt.

“Caleb Marlow,” the man replied, giving the words no importance at all. “I’m sort of in charge of this place.”

Castiel flinched at those words and immediately backed away from Caleb as much as he could without falling off the bed.

“Whoa! I’m not going to hurt you,” Caleb tried to assure him, but Castiel didn’t relax. For all he knew, Caleb had been the one who’d ordered Anderson to hurt him. “In fact, I was the one who stopped Anderson from, ehm, hurting you more. I would have put a stop to it sooner, but I was away for two days and didn’t know what was happening. I know you don’t have any reason to trust me, but, please, believe me when I say I am deeply sorry for what happened to you.”

Castiel didn’t move. The man sounded sincere, but Castiel didn’t know anything about him or this facility, so how could he believe anything? Caleb was probably lying anyway.

“Well, either way, I’ll make sure to keep Anderson far away from you. No one will hurt you anymore.”

Caleb got up with a quiet sigh, probably intending to leave, but Castiel stopped him.

“You’re trying to get me to trust you, so you can get information from me,” Castiel said matter-of-factly, although his voice was still a shadow of its former self.

Caleb stopped. “No, that’s not why I’m doing this. I-we do need those answers, but I’m not doing this because of that. What happened was…wrong – more than that, it was revolting – and I don’t want to see anything like that happen to you again.”

Castiel still wasn’t convinced, but he stayed silent.

“Why don’t you sleep for a bit? You seem like you need it.”

Castiel waited for Caleb to leave before lying down and wrapping the blanket around himself more tightly. He needed to heal his eyes, and the best way to do that would be to sleep. He just hoped that when he woke up, Caleb wouldn’t go back on his promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: the guy's name is Caleb because he's basically a clone of my MC called Kaleth. I couldn't use that name for obvious reasons.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas gets rescued...er, spoilers.

Even though his sleep was filled with nightmares, Castiel woke up feeling rested, and his wounds had healed themselves. At least his physical ones did. Castiel opened his eyes slowly, blinking as harsh white light blinded him for a moment. Once he got used to it, he became sure his eyes had been healed fully, but it made him wonder why he hadn’t been blindfolded.

They’d made sure that he didn’t see anything, so what made this moment different? Or was he allowed to see the room he was being held in? There was not much to see here, after all. Just a bed, a table next to it, and a toilet in the corner. Castiel sat up, frowning at the food on the table. He was glad that he didn’t need to eat, otherwise he’d have to fight with himself not to eat it because he’d most likely be starving.

How long had he been here, anyway? Usually, Castiel would that exactly, but with how much time he’d been unconscious for, he couldn’t be sure of anything.

Only then Castiel noticed that he wasn’t naked anymore. He was wearing a white T-shirt and sweatpants, which he didn’t remember putting on, so someone else must have dressed him. That thought did nothing to make Castiel feel less anxious.

He nervously pulled on the strap binding his wrists together as he waited for…actually, he wasn’t sure what would happen, but he did know that he wouldn’t like it. The strap easily withstood his meager attempts at freeing his wrists, keeping them tightly bound together.

Castiel let his hands fall in his lap with a sigh. He supposed he could summon his blade to cut the strap, but even if he could break his bonds, what would he do then? If he tried to escape, he’d just get electrocuted again, and dragged back here. Or, much worse, he could be brought back to Anderson.

Castiel shuddered at the thought, but he had to prepare himself for that possibility. Caleb would most likely soon get tired of trying to get Castiel to talk and decide that to torture the answers out him instead. The thing was, Castiel wasn’t certain he’d be able to resist not telling Anderson everything if the man continued interrogating him. Not to mention that Anderson didn’t seem like the kind of torturer that stopped when he got his victim to talk.

Castiel sat on the bed for about half an hour, progressively feeling worse and worse, until the door opened, revealing a tired-looking, blond man wearing a suit, probably close to forty. Despite not seeing him before, Castiel could immediately tell this was Caleb Marlow just by the look and feel of the man’s soul.

“I see your eyesight’s…better,” the man said slightly awkwardly and closed the door behind him. Castiel nodded, looking down at his hands. He didn’t feel like talking, but then again – Caleb had said he was in the charge of this facility. If anyone could help Castiel get out of here, it was Caleb, so maybe he should try to convince him. However, Castiel had no idea how to manage that.

He knew nothing about the man, so the angel had no idea how to go about this. Unless he threatened to kill Caleb, which would no doubt result in the situation getting much worse.

“If you’re concerned about the food being drugged, I assure you – there’s no need.”

“I don’t eat,” replied Castiel curtly, and Caleb raised an eyebrow. “I won’t tell you anything.”

“I read the file on you – it’s almost like you’re not allowed to talk about why and how you have these powers.”

Castiel shook his head, looking up at the man. Caleb didn’t seem to be deterred by this at all.

“Why don’t you want to tell us?”

“There are things humans shouldn’t know about,” Castiel replied vaguely, making Caleb frown in confusion. “Why do you want to know?”

“The research we do here is to benefit humanity,” Caleb replied, however he didn’t sound too convincing, but it didn’t seem that he was lying. It was more that he didn’t believe what he was saying himself, at least no fully.

Castiel narrowed his eyes at him. “You can’t synthesize my healing abilities.”

“Why not?”

“You don’t have the technology, nor the understanding,” Castiel replied emotionlessly, looking away while Caleb stared at him, looking more confused.

“What are you?” Caleb asked quietly, but he didn’t seem to expect an answer. Castiel frowned in thought. Caleb didn’t seem to be a person of faith, but he also didn’t seem to have bad intentions. Maybe if Castiel revealed to him what he was, it would be enough to convince him to let him go.

Was it worth the risk, though?

“Is there a camera here?” Castiel asked, and Caleb nodded, looking a little suspicious. Maybe he was expecting Castiel to attack him. “I’ll tell you what I am, but only to you. I don’t want anyone else to know.”

Caleb thought this over for a few second before heading to the other side of the room and reaching for a tiny white box, which Castiel hadn’t noticed before as it blended perfectly with the white walls. Caleb ripped out a cable from it, and then walked towards the door, locking it, before turning around to face Castiel again.

“Promise me you won’t tell anyone,” Castiel told him softly. Caleb looked like he wanted to protest for a moment, but then agreed.

“I promise.”

Castiel closed his eyes, focusing all of his grace on revealing the shadows of his wings. Well, what was left of them anyway. When Castiel looked at Caleb again, his eyes glowing, the man looked completely stunned, and maybe also trying to fight the urge to run. Castiel wasn’t surprised – seeing his skeletal wings couldn’t be pleasant.

Castiel let his wings disappear, pulling them around himself.

“What…was that?” Caleb managed to say.

“I’m an angel,” Castiel replied simply. Caleb’s expression quickly changed from stunned to horrified. Did he think Castiel would kill him now? No, that didn’t make sense – Caleb knew how strong the angel was – if he hadn’t thought Castiel would kill him before, he shouldn’t be thinking it now. Why did he look horrified, then?

“My name is Castiel,” Castiel continued.

“B-but you look exactly like-”

“James Novak was my vessel – host. His soul is in heaven now.”

Caleb swallowed, nodding his head even though he looked even more freaked out than before. “Okay…I think-I need to think for a bit.”

“You can’t tell anyone,” Castiel said quickly as the other man turned around.

“I won’t,” Caleb said, not looking back and walked out of the room, locking the door again. Castiel sighed, feeling a little tired from just showing his wings. He hoped he hadn’t just made a huge mistake.

Caleb thought he was going to be sick.

They’d captured, tortured, and _raped_ an angel. No wonder James- _Castiel_ had managed to resist such extreme torture. But judging by those panic attacks, Castiel wasn’t dealing with it well. Caleb covered his face with his hands for a moment before downing the glass of whiskey in front of him.

He’d always had a feeling he was going to go hell because of the unsavory things he’d had to do for the greater good, but this took the cake.

He had to fix this- well, no, there was no fixing this, but he had to at least try to not make it worse. He needed to help Castiel escape, even if it meant a definite end to his career, and possibly imprisonment, or a very slow execution at the hands of Anderson.

As if on cue, Caleb started coughing, covering his mouth with a hand, and then wiping away the blood he’d coughed up on his palm with a pained grimace. What did it matter? He was already dying anyway.

This was how he ended up waiting until 1 AM before making an attempt at getting Castiel away from here. Most of the staff was either gone or asleep at this time, and it was highly unlikely they’d run into the few insomniacs who worked here.

Caleb cautiously made his way to Castiel’s cell, opening it quietly. The angel flinched and made a move to cover his face, but relaxed slightly a second later. Caleb carefully closed the door in an effort not to make too much noise, and walked over to Castiel, untying his hands.

“Okay, I’m getting you out of here,” Caleb told him, and the angel gave him a relieved, grateful look that Caleb didn’t deserve at all. “Do you have someone you can call?”

Caleb felt incredibly awkward asking that question to an angel. Castiel hesitated for a moment.

“Yes,” he said finally, nodding his head, although he didn’t sound certain at all. Caleb decided not to question it.

“Alright, here take my phone,” Caleb said, handing it to Castiel, who took it without a word and clenched his hand around it. “I’d like to give you a lift, but the less time we spend together, the better.”

With that Caleb turned around and opened the door, waiting for Castiel to follow him, and then they both started walking down the corridor. The way out really wasn’t that far, but there was no way Caleb hadn’t been seen on a dozen cameras by now. Even if he’d bothered hiding his face somehow, it would still be obvious it had been him because he had to use his keycard.

Caleb breathed out as they walked out, and then breathed in, the cold night air making its way into his lungs, and looked over at Castiel. “You need to leave before someone notices you’re gone.”

Castiel seemed like he wanted to say something, but then he just nodded.

“Thank you,” he said gratefully and started running in a random direction away from the facility. Caleb sighed, relieved that it had worked, but also dreading what was coming. He wondered if he should even try to run away when something blunt hit the back of his head, and he fell to the ground with a groan.

Before Caleb managed recover, his hands had already been cuffed behind his back and he was being dragged to his feet by his hair. Caleb forced himself to stay still as the edge of a knife touched his throat, and none other than Anderson laughed into his ear.

“Wrong move, Marlow,” he said, clearly incredibly pleased with the situation. “Now I’ll have to interrogate you about the whereabouts of subject forty-six. Finally, I’ll get to find out what your screams sound like.”

Caleb shut his eyes. So his fate was the worst of the possible three.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, for once Cas wasn't rescued by the brothers :D


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean comes to help Cas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The longest chapter yet, although that doesn't say much :D

Castiel didn’t stop until he got to the edge of the town he’d been brought to, ignoring how pieces of crumbled asphalt stabbed into the bare soles of his feet. At one point he was sure he’d stepped on a piece of glass, but the angel hadn’t stopped to heal it.

Once he reached a bridge that lead out of the town, he stumbled underneath it, sitting down and leaning on the metal construction behind him. Castiel looked at the phone still clutched in hand. He had to call Dean or Sam and ask them for help. He had no idea how to steal a car, nor did he wanted to steal it, but he had no money, and he needed to get away from this place as soon as possible. Before he was recaptured, and…

Castiel shuddered, swallowing as he tried to focus to figure out where he was. It took him only a few second. It seemed he was somewhere in the middle of Idaho. Castiel dialed out Dean’s number, feeling more than a little guilty for calling him at 2:30 AM, especially since he needed a favor from him, but there was no other way. Castiel couldn’t show his face around this town if he wanted to avoid attention, so selling the phone and buying a bus ticket was out of the question, especially with how he was dressed.

Castiel sighed and pushed the call button, putting the phone to his ear. He kept looking around nervously, waiting for an attack to happen any second until Dean picked up.

“ _What_?” Dean asked, sounding very hostile and sleepy.

“H-hello, Dean,” Castiel replied, suddenly very unsure of himself. What if Dean said no? Castiel supposed he would have to go back on foot. Not that it couldn’t be done, but that sort of transport was terribly inefficient.

“ _Cas?_ ” Dean asked, his voice now confused. “ _Why the hell are you calling me at 3 in the morning_?”

He didn’t seem angry, at least. That was good. Castiel wished he still had functioning wings – that would have solved everything. He wouldn’t have gotten caught if he still could fly, he thought miserably.

“I…I’m in need of some assistance,” Castiel said, debating whether or not he should give Dean the full details of what had happened to the angel. He didn’t want to believe Dean would make fun of him if he revealed he’d been he’d been captured by mere humans, but there was still a chance that he would, and in that case Castiel wasn’t sure if he could take that.

“ _What? You okay, Cas?_ ” Dean asked immediately, sounding more awake now.

“Yes, for now,” Castiel replied, scanning his surrounding again. “I’m in Idaho, and I don’t have any means of transportation to get back to the bunker.”

“ _You need a lift? Wait, Idaho? Sam and I are working a case there right now. Where are you? No wait, gimme a sec, I’ll track your phone_ ,” Dean said quickly, and the angel let out a sigh of relief while a little disbelieving of his luck. Maybe he would get out of his town before sunrise if Dean was so close.

“ _What happened to you, anyway_?” Dean asked, and Castiel sighed. He’d known that question would come sooner or later.

“I was captured and… _interrogated_ ,” Castiel replied, shuddering as he flashed back to Anderson fucking him again. “I only now managed to get away.”

“ _Dammit, Cas_ ,” Dean said with worry, “ _are you sure you’re okay? Who was it? Demons?_ ”

Castiel swallowed in discomfort. “Y-yes, demons.” He hated lying to Dean, but he didn’t want to be ridiculed or pitied by him either.

“ _Okay, I’m about two hours away, I’ll call you when I get there_ ,” Dean said, and Castiel thanked him before the hunter hung up, breathing out. Finally he could relax at least a little. He could just stay under this bridge and wait for Dean to arrive, which was probably the best option he had. Castiel curled up, hugging his knees, trying not to think about what had happened in the last two days.

Almost an hour passed like this, which Castiel spent by listening to the occasional car pass above him, when Caleb’s phone vibrated. Castiel assumed it was a text from Dean, but as soon as he saw the name ‘Anderson’ as the person who sent it, he felt his heart stop momentarily.

It was a picture of Caleb, shirtless, cut up and bruised, while looking about as angry as he could with how exhausted he seemed, hanging from cuffs that were held up by a chain attached to the ceiling of what looked like a basement. Under the picture was a message: _Looks like your savior could use some saving himself_. An address followed after that.

Castiel let out a shaky breath, staring at the picture. This was his fault. It had to be. Why else would Anderson be torturing Caleb? It was clearly a trap, but how could Castiel let Caleb be hurt by Anderson? Sure, the man might have been indirectly responsible for Castiel’s kidnapping, but he’d ended up being the one to get him out of there, and he certainly didn’t deserve _this_.

However, since this was a trap, Anderson would be ready for him, and most likely he would end up being captured again, and that wasn’t something Castiel wanted to risk in the slightest, which meant that he would have to wait for Dean and ask him for help.

Unfortunately, if he did, he would have to tell the hunter the truth, not to mention that even if he did tell Dean what had happened, he might not want to help a man involved with the very organization that had tortured Castiel.

The angel sighed. There was no other way. He would have to ask Dean for help, despite how much he didn’t want to.

It was another forty-five minutes before Dean arrived. Anderson had sent Castiel another four messages, which the angel refused to open to avoid doing anything rash. When he saw the Impala pull up next to the bridge and Dean get out, Castiel really wanted to hug him, but he wasn’t sure if Dean would appreciate or not.

“Jesus, Cas, you look like crap,” Dean said with affection and worry, grasping the angel’s shoulder, and Castiel smiled sadly. “What are you wearing?”

Dean pulled back slightly, looking at Castiel’s outfit, and the angel averted his gaze. “It wasn’t demons.”

Dean frowned at him, waiting for Castiel to continue. The angel let his shoulders slump in defeat. There was no backing out now.

“It wasn’t demons…it was humans,” Castiel admitted, and Dean’s frown deepened. “There’s some kind of facility here that studies people with supernatural powers. They found footage of me healing someone that had been taken by Metatron, and they wanted to figure out how my healing works.”

Castiel kept looking down at his feet, afraid to meet Dean’s gaze. “It seems I’m not very resistant to electricity.”

Dean stayed silent for a moment as he thought it over. “Why did you say demons caught you, then?”

Castiel shifted his weight awkwardly, still looking anywhere but at Dean. “I didn’t want you to think less of me.”

“Dammit, Cas,” Dean said, pulling Castiel into a tight hug, which the angel was too weak not to return. “Do you really think I’d lose respect for you or make fun of you because you got kidnapped and hurt by some bastards who specialize in capturing people with powers? Do you really think I’m that much of an asshole?”

Castiel closed his eyes, feeling ashamed of himself. He shouldn’t have doubted Dean. He should have known Dean wouldn’t make fun of his pain, however he was still not convinced that Dean saw him as useful now, even if the hunter didn’t say it out loud.

“Who do I need to kill?” asked Dean after a moment of watching Castiel, barely keeping his anger in check.

Castiel was about to tell Dean that he shouldn’t kill anyone, but then he stopped himself. He breathed in deeply and began summarizing the situation to Dean, skipping over most of the details, but even then it seemed Dean had put together enough to want to rip Anderson’s spine out.

Unsurprisingly, Dean agreed to kill Anderson, already pulling out a gun from the Impala’s trunk. He didn’t seem quite so enthusiastic about saving Caleb, but Castiel could take care of that part. He was fairly certain that he would have enough energy to heal him completely, lung cancer included.

Oddly enough, it seemed Anderson had Caleb somewhere other than the facility because the address led Castiel and Dean to the other side of the town. It was an unassuming small house with many others like it filling the entire street.

They exchanged a look, and Dean shrugged, going to the door and beginning to unlock it with a lockpick before realizing that the door was in fact unlocked. With a curse Dean entered the house, Castiel following and closing the door quietly behind them.

Since the photos had been taken in a basement, they looked for one, and indeed found it quite easily by following muffled, pain-filled screams. Castiel could even hear what Anderson and Caleb were saying.

“He’s…not going to…come,” Caleb gasped, whimpering as presumably Anderson did something to him.

“But you will. Over and over,” Anderson replied, laughing, and Castiel shuddered and squeezed his eyes shut as he flashed back. “I don’t care if he doesn’t come. I get you to play with either way. I’ve always wanted to have you like this – helpless to anything I can come up with. It’s a shame you’ll die in a few months, though. I would have loved to make you my pet.”

Caleb screamed again, and Castiel tried to control his breathing. Noticing this, Dean seemed to get even angrier as they finally reached the door to the basement. Without a pause Dean kicked it open and emptied his gun’s magazine into Anderson.

“Huh, that was easier than I thought it would be,” Dean admitted. Castiel agreed as he stared at the now dead Anderson, wondering what his plan had been when he noticed that right next to him there was a table full of knifes and a stun gun. Since Castiel didn’t have a gun, Anderson would have most likely managed to use it on him.

However, it was still hard looking at the man, so instead Castiel focused on Caleb.

The man looked much worse than on the first photo. There were many more cuts and much, much more blood now, two of his teeth were missing, and there was a knife buried in his shoulder. Caleb himself looked like he was barely conscious as he blearily stared at Dean and Castiel.

“You…came?” he rasped disbelievingly, slumping in his chains. Castiel approached him and put two fingers to Caleb’s forehead, healing him while pulling the knife out of his shoulder, cringing at the agonized cry it caused.

When it was done, Castiel took a step back, wavering a little, and Dean steadied him.

“You okay, Cas?”

“Y-yes, I just, I’ve used up a lot of my energy over the last two days.”

Dean’s gaze darkened, no doubt putting together immediately how Castiel had used grace. He then turned to look at Caleb, who seemed to have trouble concentrating. “Any other test subjects you’re keeping in that facility of yours?”

Caleb blinked. “Um, no, the psychic we had before Ja-Castiel was released a week ago.”

Castiel was more than a little surprised that this organization let their test subject go once they weren’t needed anymore, but the important part was that there was no one else. “Will you continue after this?”

Despite the vague question, Caleb seemed to have understood perfectly. “No. I was never truly comfortable with what we had to do for the greater good, but now it’s much worse. I’ll make sure it ends. And without Anderson, it shouldn’t be too difficult to accomplish.”

Caleb looked at the other man’s dead body with hatred and disgust. Castiel touched the man’s forehead again, knocking him out and making him forget about Castiel completely. He stumbled back when it was done, and Dean caught him, before moving on to Caleb’s cuffs and unlocking them, letting the man slump to the blood-covered ground.

Castiel looked at Dean. The hunter seemed to have a lot of questions, but Castiel didn’t feel up to answering them right now. He just wanted to get out of here.

“Could we leave now?”

Dean blinked, but almost immediately nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s pick up Sam and go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're done. Finally a fic I didn't end after 6 chapters.


End file.
